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CASTLE RISING CASTLE RISING
stands in one of the most remote parts of England — in the flat lands of
northern Norfolk, two or three miles from the eastern shore of the Wash. Even
in our day, although the village of Rising is one of the beauty spots of East
Anglia, it is not easy of access; but in the Middle Ages, before drainage and
tillage reclaimed so much of the coast lands, the castle must have been
inaccessible from all directions except the southern. It is a local tradition
that Rising was once a flourishing harbour, and the villagers defy their
neighbours of King’s Lynn with the old saying that “Rising was a seaport town
when Lynn was but a marsh.” There are, however, no evidences of former
prosperity. The church, a small one of Norman origin, has been tactfully
restored in recent times. In the village is the Bede House, founded in 1614 by
Henry Howard, Earl of Northampton, for the reception of twelve poor spinsters,
with the careful proviso that any one of them found guilty of “atheism, heresy,
blasphemy, faction in the hospital, injury, or disgracing the assistants,”
should be instantly expelled. What a caricature on the enthusiastic Shelley it
seems; an impoverished spinster ejected from an almshouse for atheism! But
metaphysical questionings and bickerings over dogma have passed them by. They
may be seen on Sundays in prim procession to the parish church, clad in red
cloaks and black steeple hats of the sixteenth century, for all the world like
witches intercepted by the churchwardens. For the rest, it is proof sufficient
of Rising’s stagnation that it was a pocket borough before the Reform Act. The earthworks of
the castle stand out upon slightly higher ground from the level country
surrounding them, and they are all the more striking because the curtain walls
which formerly crowned them have disappeared. An oval, almost round, en
closure formed by high earthen banks has smaller oblong courts flanking its
longer sides to east and west. The rectangular shape of the whole has induced
some to suppose a Roman origin which cannot be confirmed by archæological or
documentary evidence; and the theory presupposes that the Romans found a
British oval encampment, which they converted into the rectangular form. More
probably the earthworks were built in Anglo-Saxon times, and as in so many
other cases utilized, perhaps extended, by the Normans. It is an indication of
their size that the oval rampart stands about 30 ft. above the floor of the
exterior buildings. The area of the whole is 18 acres. It is remarkable
how completely the buildings have been destroyed. Nothing remains in the
flanking courtyards. The approach to the enclosure is by a gap in the east side
of the rampart across a ruined bridge and through a Norman gatehouse. The
gatehouse, of which two arches and the lower story remain, was of a rectangular
type, containing a passage-way 13 feet long between stone walls. Within the enclosure
the foundations of some domestic buildings can be traced. They are probably of
Tudor date. On the north side is a Norman chapel in a ruinous condition. It
consisted of nave, choir, and apse, divided by transverse arches, and it was
probably the garrison church. For some time its existence was unknown, until it
was found buried in earth which had fallen down from the ramparts. A few short
lengths of curtain wall that remain were built in the reign of Henry VII. If
there were any Norman walls they have entirely disappeared. But the most
striking object to be seen through the arch of the gatehouse is the Norman
keep, which is a compensation for so much that has been destroyed. The keep is
low and massive, like those of Norwich and Colchester. In fact, the height is
less than either the length or the breadth, and the effect is intensified by
the loss of the battlements. Otherwise the exterior is well enough preserved.
The side facing the gatehouse is covered by a forebuilding. While the rest of
the keep is built of flint rubble with ashlar facings on the pilasters and
corner buttresses, the forebuilding is entirely cased in ashlar with many
ornamentations, the most striking being a continuous arcade and above it a line
of circles containing carved heads, which are to be seen at best advantage on
the south side over the entrance arch way. This gives entrance to a fine
flight of stone stairs leading up to the vestibule tower, which is twice the
width of the rest of the forebuilding. The stairs were protected by gates under
Norman arches at the bottom, at a landing half-way up, and at the entrance to
the vestibule. Below the vestibule, on the basement level of the tower, was a
prison entered from above only, and over the vestibule was another floor.
Originally the forebuilding had three roofs. The arch on the landing within,
and a pilaster buttress without, divided the stairway into two sections of
different heights externally, and the vestibule tower was built to the level of
the rest of the keep. Within, the stairway was commanded by a meurtrière and a
loop for archers. The keep was
divided by an interior cross-wall and had only one floor over the basement. The
entrance to the basement was by spiral stairs in the north-east and south-west
angles of the keep, but there is also a door just inside the entrance archway
of the staircase. For many years the basement was filled with rubbish which had
dropped from the floor above as the keep fell into ruins. In 1822, when the
enclosure was cleared and the Norman chapel discovered, this rubbish was
removed. The bases of some columns were found, and a well 63 ft. in depth. The
walls are looped for archers. The vestibule at
the top of the stairs contains a beautiful Norman arch, the entrance into the
great hall, but at some period this was blocked up and converted into a
fireplace. The interior is dilapidated. It possessed living rooms, a hall,
chapel, and ante-chapel, and a mural arcade. It seems strange that the keep at
Castle Rising should be distinguished among its fellows by the possession of a
kitchen and still room. Kitchens are rare in Nor man keeps — there is one also
at Norwich, not far away — for it was evidently the custom to cook in the
buildings outside and bring the dishes to the keep in various degrees of
tepidity. The manor of
Snettisham, which embraced the village of Rising, belonged to Archbishop
Stigand and was granted at the Conquest to the ubiquitous Odo of Bayeux, Earl
of Kent. When Odo rebelled William Rufus gave the manor to William de Albini, the
father of the William de Albini who became Lord of Arundel by his marriage with
Queen Adela, widow of Henry I. This second William is supposed to have built
the keep. He was one of the most chivalrous knights of Europe. He rejected the
amorous attentions of the Queen of France because of his love for Adela, and it
is said that, when the rejected lady thrust him into a lion’s den, William put
his hand into the lion’s mouth and extracted its tongue. In similar
circumstances, during his captivity in Austria, Richard I went even further:
he pulled out the lion’s heart. In William’s case, however, the less drastic
operation was sufficient to save his life. The Albini arms bore in
commemoration a placid but tongueless lion, and the husband of Adela is known to
history as William of the Strong Arm. In the reign of
Edward III Castle Rising belonged to the Crown and was for twenty-seven years
the principal dwelling of Isabella “the She-Wolf of France.” Although she had
betrayed her husband, Edward II, for Mortimer, who was slain by the orders of
her son, she had by no means a troubled end, possessing as she did many manors
and being treated with unbroken respect. She devoted her considerable energies
to the collecting of relics, and falconry, with an occasional pilgrimage to
Walsingham, or a sojourn at one of her other manors. Edward III frequently
visited her in state at Castle Rising. There is a record that the Borough of
King’s Lynn sent to “Isabell the old Queen “presents of wine, flesh meats,
swans, lampreys, turbot, sturgeon, herrings, and oats for her horses. She died at Hertford full of years and honour,
clothed in the habit of Saint Clare, and was buried in the Franciscan church at
Newgate in London. On the tomb of her son, John of Eltham, at Westminster,
there is a statue of Isabella, but of the halls and rooms of state at Castle
Rising little enough remains. CASTLE RISING.
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